The Pirate Ultimatum
by Chazymandias
Summary: Mycroft needs John's help. What will happen when he agrees?
1. Chapter 1 Prologue

**Kay wrote this one. If you haven't read our texting fic then some of this might be slightly odd but it doesn't matter if you haven't. Please review because we loooooove you.**

Prologue

"John."

His eyes were all knowing, boring through mine, as per usual. There was something different in his voice though, it was stronger than normal. Firmer and more self-assured. I hope he didn't require too much; I still had to get milk and a pig's cheek, for my rambunctious flat-mate. Mycroft either wanted something and being much more mature than Sherlock, opted to not restort to a petulant whine. Or, perhaps he made his tone hard to conceal a wavering in his voice, a weakening in his mask of control.

That was... potentially interesting. Potentially alarming, as well.

Although, as Sherlock dictates, one musn't write a conclusion until all data has been collected. Perhaps a shock would disturb Mycroft enough for him to get to the point for once in his life.

"Mikey." I greeted in return, followed by a sip of tea.

Cup poised in saucer, he stayed silent. He sighed and an eyebrow raised slightly, as if that alone could brush off any inane chatter that might fall from my tongue.

Eyebrow of exasperation alert.

Shockingly, that eyebrow didn't develop into a rebuke of the nickname. That was just as good as an encoragment from either of the Holmes brothers.

"Did you enjoy the show?" I ventured on, knowing he always had someone manning a camera in my flat. I glanced around the room we were in. It was comfortable, bookshelves and paintings adorned the walls and it was coloured in neutral shades. It must have been his Switzerland room. Which was comforting; we weren't in there for him to attack me.

"I know you have developed a liking for cakes."

He smiled, a flicker of true amusement and fondness shone in his eyes.

"I don't think I've seen Sherlock in such a mess that didn't come from blood in years. Do you know what excited him so about the notion of baking? I can't imagine

him taking such a shine to something so... common."

"I don't know where he got the idea, he just commanded me to buy ingredients, like he does. I believe he might have been trying to study the 'boring' side of humanity

again; he was on the tube for hours the other day. Just going in circles. In the end, I think he underestimated baking, it proved to be not so simple after all."

He sipped his tea and appeared to have slipped into deep thought. I stayed silent; accustomed to this brand of behavior. The familiar silence was also rather comforting.

"John," he repeated and smiled pleasantly, apparently he had found whatever inspiration which he had been looking for. "I require your services."

"**Well that's a bit forward" Anyway, guesses on what happens next? ;)**


	2. Chapter 2 Chapter One

Again, accustomed to this behaviour, I stayed silent. If he wants something he'll explain. Well... maybe a little.

"I need you to fetch me something," Now, really. Does everyone think I'm some sort of retriever? "It is of a medical nature, I am sure you understand that some things need to be kept confidential?"

Well, that changed things slightly, something not to easily obtained by the public. It should be easier for me at least, but that's assuming Sherlock kept out of my prescription documents this week and that I actually have any left to use.

"And this is for you? Surely you have a personal doctor on call?" I asked, genuinely interested in how many minions he actually had. He smiled at me and gave me a look.

A 'do catch up, John' look.

Oh, how flattering: doctor to the government, no pressure.

"You know the required medication, how do you know what ails you? I can't just give you medication without being confident that it is right for you."

He placed his cup and saucer onto the small table next to us, I followed his action and sat up straighter in my chair. He stood and picked up a folded piece of paper from the bookshelf closest to us. I took it as it was offered to me, unfolded it and read the contents.

It was a list of symptoms; and I could understand how he might have easily diagnosed his own condition.

I blinked and stepped into my Dr Watson persona, hoping to rid my mind of any feelings of bewilderment, and motioned for him to sit back in his respective chair.

"These are all accurate to the truth?" I asked, trying my best to ease him. The tenseness in his voice earlier was now mirrored in his expression and posture.

"Yes," He answered tightly. "I assure you I have neither exaggurated nor skipped over any details that I believe are important to the matter."

"Would you like an examination? From what you describe it is not an entirely urgent matter, but I would like to check you myself before handing out drugs like balloons."

"I... You understand I am concerned-"

"That is understandable, for someone who has your suspicions. But, then again, you may have unwittingly missed something and that could change a diagnosis entirely. Don't worry, treat is as a general health check up," At his nod I mentally checked my schedule and asked, "How soon would you like to meet?"

"I believe I am available Tuesday." His posture relaxed a little, finding some comfort in being in control again.


	3. Chapter 3 Chapter Two

Once Sherlock and I had returned to 221B I sent an email to Mycroft asking to meet the next day.

Sherlock simply sat in his chair and gazed at nothing in particular for most of the evening. Occasionally he would watch me as I tried to clean around his experiments in the kitchen, no doubt laughing at my struggle. What the bloody hell was he doing with a rotten lemon anyway?

When I retired for the evening, after bidding Sherlock goodnight, I could hear soft tones of his Stradivarius and the occasional sound of his bare feet pacing rhythmically in the living room. And he wonders why his feet are always so cold to the touch.

Sherlock may not be fluent in words of emotion, but his actions certainly speak louder than any words ever could. That was his way of telling me he regards me important in his life and that he cares for me; by trying to ease my sleep from nightmares to pleasant dreams.

I told him every time I cancelled other plans to follow him into danger, with every word I wrote, every time I went to Tesco to get him insane things like a bag of pens, just so he can use the lids for something. At least I'm never out of pens.

I did in fact sleep well and Sherlock must have gone to bed after I had succumbed to Somnus, as he wasn't in the living room once I had scrounged up enough effort to get out of bed.

After glancing out the window and spotting the black car parked outside, I donned a jacket, folded a completed prescription into my pocket and walked out of the flat before climbing into the car.

The car took me through a complicated route back to the same building I had met with Mycroft in six days prior. He needn't have bothered taking such a long route, perhaps I should speak to him about sustainable development.

I was then directed to a different room one which was green. The colour of growth, fertility and good health. Appropriate.

Mycroft was already seated at a small table. He was dressed in an expensive suit, one that he wouldn't usually wear simply for my presence. He most likely just returned from brunch at the Diogenes club. Like our meeting last week his posture radiated confidence, but his tone betrayed his unrest.

"John, I trust you are well? Please, sit." He motioned to the chair opposite him, the table stood between us.

"The news is good Mycroft, like I suspected your condition may be remedied easily,"

I retrieved the paper from my pocket, handed him the prescription that he requested for last week and smiled. "You are in good health, Mikey."

I watched as his eyes scanned the paper until they connected with mine.

"And Sherlock? He has no suspicions?"

I sighed and told him what I believed, "I can't say much for the nature of his suspicions, but I know he has been more occupied in his experiments than to bother with distractions."

"That is acceptable, he'll probably have deleted it by the end of the week," He smiled, content again. "I wish to thank you, John; you didn't have to agree to this. I believe I owe you a favour."

Quite honestly I was shocked, I didn't believe he would be very grateful. Although, it wasn't an unwelcome change. What was it that Sherlock had said the first time Mycroft offered me something?

'Think it through next time.'

Take advantage of the situation, obviously. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"I believe that you owe Sherlock and I many favours," I tried not to sound hesitant, but I did not want to discourage his good view of me. We had quite a nice companionable relationship forming. "Sherlock mainly, but I doubt you'd want to admit that to him."

Conversely, he grinned widely. Perhaps that wasn't such a good plan. I don't know if I'd prefer coldness over the evil grin he was gracing me with. Look what you've done now, Sherlock.

"Very true, John. Perhaps we can come to an agreement?"


	4. Chapter 4 Chapter Three

After our debate (and some lunch) which had contained a lot of negotiating and that had almost ended at an impasse, Mycroft offered me a single ultimatum. One that, in my opinion, benefited Sherlock and I greatly. Although, the exchange was most likely relative and judging from Mycroft's satisfied expression he believed that he benefited also. Perhaps I missed a loophole? He would probably just request for me to get him a lifetime supply of cake.

Mycroft suggested naming our agreement, in case of a time which required either one of us to invoke the terms in the presence.

I pondered over something fitting while lounging with Mycroft on a sofa in another room. It seemed he believed he didn't need to use room colour manipulation on me anymore, I felt an odd sense of achievement over that fact.

This was a time when Sherlock would be truly ignorant, it required a title that represents our agreement significantly, while still being discreet enough that Sherlock wouldn't be able to dissect the meaning behind it.

It was selfish of us, keeping information from Sherlock, but I had assured that it had his best interests at heart. Like I said, it was beneficial. But subtle and gradual, Mycroft and I both agreed that if we altered things drastically, he would surely suspect foul play.

I doubt he's ever really been ignorant, the great and mighty Sherlock Holmes. Perhaps when he was a child. The corners of my lips turned upwards slightly as an image of a miniature Sherlock came to mind, dressed as a pirate, sword and all. I knew then that it would be a decent enough name. I revealed to Mycroft my train of thought and he agreed.

'The Pirate Ultimatum' it was then.

We sat together for perhaps an hour longer discussing an array of topics, I brought up renewable fuels and he laughed, admitting that if he stopped using fossil fuels the petrol prices would likely decline dramatically. I assured myself of his confidence, in his sense of well being and in his discretion, bade him goodbye and left.

While returning to 221B I checked my messages on my phone and realized that The Pirate Ultimatum may be required much sooner than either of us anticipated. Sherlock had obliterated the ceiling over my bedroom.

He really was quite trying sometimes.

Despite that, all I could think about until my return was that Mycroft still hadn't scolded me for calling him 'Mikey'.

**It's Kay's birthday on wednesday... ;)**

**You know what I want :L**


	5. Chapter 5 The Ultimatum

The Pirate Ultimatum.

Both 'Mycroft Holmes' and 'John Watson' agree to the following terms without any outside persuasion:

When necessary 'Mycroft Holmes' will aid 'John Watson' and/or 'Sherlock Holmes' financially and/or politically and/or domestically, providing 'Mycroft Holmes' views the event in question in need of his help; to prevent the taking advantage of 'Mycroft Holmes'' "giving nature".

In the circumstance of financial aid, the price may be in a range of nature from: scientific equipment for 'Sherlock Holmes', to the repair work for an unusable object, to a temporary living arrangement, providing said arrangement will aid 'Sherlock Holmes' in his line of work, and providing 'John Watson' nor 'Sherlock Holmes' is able to fulfil their situation's requirements.

In return 'John Watson' must continue to aid 'Sherlock Holmes' to the best of his ability, with or without 'Sherlock Holmes'' knowledge or desire. Aspects may come under: providing 'Sherlock Holmes' eats decently, to insuring 'Sherlock Holmes'' health does not become self damaging insomuch he "becomes a different man", to protecting 'Sherlock Holmes' in events of danger.

'John Watson' will also be agreeable to welcome 'Mycroft Holmes' into his living space, providing that "by the end of the week there is only one camera in my bloody flat" and that there is a significant notice beforehand, except in times of need. 'John Watson' will also provide cake in such times.

This agreement may be invoked as soon as it is signed. It may be called upon in times of distress, grand or small. This arrangement must be referred to 'The Pirate Ultimatum', or any other subtle and appropriate variant, by both 'Mycroft Holmes' and 'John Watson' at all times.

In the event that 'Sherlock Holmes', or another party, wishes to gain knowledge of the agreement, both 'John Watson' and 'Mycroft Holmes' must be privy before deciding to divulge any information. This is the same for past week's events that prompted the agreement.

This document may be terminated in the event that 'Mycroft Holmes' and/or 'John Watson' no longer deem it necessary, the other man must be notified before hand and agreeable, or at least neutral, to the cancelling of the arrangement.

John H. Watson Mycroft Holmes

**So that's it. Please let us know what you think! It's Kay's birthday on Wednesday so please, review for that? :)**


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